A simple phrase...

I am an American and proud of that. I enjoy my freedoms. If I want to read something, I can. If I want to go somewhere, I can. If I want to own a gun, I can. (I don't own one, but if I wanted to I could.) And as an American woman, I can vote, I can leave my house alone, I can own property, I can work, I can drive or I can stay home. I can say what I want when I want.

I have these freedoms and more because of men and women throughout American history that lived, fought, and died so that I could have those rights. My family is full of them. All of them proud to have served our country and insure that their children and grandchildren would have those same rights. The one thing I remember most about both of my parents, was their pride in serving their country. I have experiences I never would have had if it weren't for the fact that my dad made the Army his career choice. 

My mom loved American history, and I inherited that from her. I even wanted to major in it. Even now, other than my Bible, devotional, and the odd parenting book, if I read something that's non-fiction, it's about American history. My dream vacation isn't a trip to some Italian villa, Paris, or some exotic island, it's a trip around the country to visit places important to American history. Hawaii isn't included in my idea of an exotic island. I want to go there just so I can go to the USS Arizona Memorial. 

My favorite vacation as a kid was when we spent a few days in Washington DC before we moved to Germany in 1986. We didn't do a lot of sightseeing, but we did see a few places on the National Mall. Like the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. At all the other places we had been to that day, there had been a constant hum of thousands of conversations, people talking about where they were, teachers teaching their classes about the importance of the sight they were at, even talks about when and where their next meal would be. But at the Wall, there was a silent reverence, and it seemed no one was speaking above a whisper. The loudest sound that could be heard was the occasional sob as a a family or friend found the name they sought. 

I'll never forget that particular visit to that particular monument because it was one of the extremely few times I saw my father misty eyed. And even with her love of history, it caused memories to painful for my mom and she sat at a picnic table to wait for us instead of walking the Wall's length. As we neared the path, my father stopped and I watched as he stood, his eyes traveling the length, seeing without focus. He took our hands and walked us slowly down the sidewalk in front. Quietly, he told us where we were and why this monument was important to America. And he told us why it was important to him. 

And then he found a name. 

I don't think I'll ever remember the name, but I'll never forget my dad that day. His hand reached out, and hovered centimeters over that granite, his eyes grew misty. And we continued on. Then he saw another, and again, his hand reached out and hovered, and his eyes grew misty. This happened a few times, and as we reached the end of the Wall, and we turned to walk back to Mama he whispered to my sister and me a phrase that would shape my actions toward Veterans for the rest of my life. A single tear rolled down his face as he said:

There are over 55,00 names on that wall. And to this day, this is really the only Thanks so many of them ever got! (After 4 names were added this year, the total of names is 58,260. Eight are women.)

A few years after we returned to the US, I heard about a replica traveling the country and I asked my dad about that long ago visit to the actual Wall in DC and what his comment meant. He told me about the protests and how a lot of soldiers who should have been welcomed home as heros had been welcomed home with riots and things thrown at them. They were ridiculed, tormented, and insulted for doing something that to many of them wasn't a choice they had made willingly, but something they were ordered to do after being drafted. And he told me how it hurt him that so many men and women died with that as their final memory of a country they had given their lives for. And how so many returned home and to this day haven't received a Thank You from anyone.

So tomorrow as we celebrate the Veteran's that have given their time and service, and the ones who have given the ultimate sacrifice of their lives, remember to tell a veteran Thank You. You never know how much that one simple phrase can mean to someone until you say it.